The Graffiti Artist
by Ififall
Summary: Jordan Chase's curiousity gets the better of him.


A/N: This also has the characters from the new tricks Episode: "Good Morning Lemmings"

A new day, a new review, a new snap, a new fan, more exposure, more fame, more money. The gang saw it coming before he did if he was honest. "You're in the rag...again" Magz said, marking the photocopied tag with nicotine stained fingers. "So?" Flak said, shaking another can as he went to shade in his signature. None of the Maze crew he hanged and tagged with were gonna be impressed, well, except for Konz but he was impressed by anything. "I think it's cool" Begga said as she gave Flak's shoulder a little squeeze.

The chemistry between them make Flak sweat even more. He knew it was against the rules. Begga was Magz's ex and as a friendship rule, he knew he shouldn't be looking at her the way that he did but he couldn't help it. Why the gang gave her the street name "Begga" was a mystery. Her real name was Gail it was a beautiful name suited her beauitful face. Flak decided that the next time they were alone, he'd ask her out. If he got rejected fair enough, he could handle it, but he couldn't handle the guessing games. "The What if's" It was screwing his head up.

"No" "Aww come on Begs, you know how much he likes ya, do it" Magz urged as he ruffled Begga's curly hair on the sofa bed. One sloopy kiss on her shoulder and she was putty in his hands. "When he gets known, we'll get some dough, you want that don't ya?" Magz asked prodding her with his finger. Begga nodded. Anything to keep Magz happy, her whole world lit up when he smiled.

Sure she liked Flak only as a friend, but if a few kisses and hand-holding put money in Magz's hand and paid the bills, she ready was for it. She couldn't believe it when Flak asked her out for a drink when Magz left them alone at the train tracks. Begga felt less guilty then, even though she was stringing him along, the money would come in handy. Begga and Magz were living on the bones of their arses as it was.

Flak didn't even know he was being head-hunted until he was getting approached by men in suits gazing at his work on cheap buildings handing him pictures graffiti he'd done in council estates. They were smarmy and smiley too weird for Flak, grinning like cheshire cats asking him to work for them. Taking out their sweat-shop made cheque books and asking him to draw for a living work for an art gallery, cater to the whining masses, slog his guts out for society. Basically sell out.

At first he said a huge fucking no and told them to shove it up their asses. But Flak couldn't be a broke freedom fighter all his life. He'd been a bit of tear-away but he'd always come back home to his dad, to the ready meals in the freezer, to his sketchbook to the broken boiler, to his room. He wanted something better for his dad, his crew, himself , especially now he had Begga AKA the Gorgeous Gail on his arm, he couldn't let her down and live in cardboard box, like a tramp.

Flak's crew were already doing the ATM jobs and he hated it, the waiting the orders the nicking the running the only upside was the cash and Magz usually got most of it. If he was going to trust one of these artsy types they would have to be clean. The next offer he got, looked Kosher. A women that looked to be in her thirties met him in a cafe, paid for their drinks, bought Flak a doughnut with hot chocolate covered in cream and an orange juice for later. She told him her name was Sara, that he had "The Gift" and she wasn't going to take no for an answer. Flak didn't know the meaning of the word "No" by the time she left the table.

Flak was getting a proper pay for expressing himself, something that he always thought was free. He was finally able to pay his dad rent treated the gang every now and again. He threw Cash at Begga like there was no tomorrow, if Begga even looked at a bracelet, or an Ipod or jewellery he bought it for her. Nothing was too expensive for Begga. They hadn't been physical and Flak wasn't going to rush it. He liked Begga for who she was, but there was no harm in flirting, see how far it could go. One night night he decided to go to Begga's unexpected. Flak ditched the hoddie and jogging bottoms and pulled on some jeans and a jumper. He bought some flowers from the corner shop, hoping that Begga would be so pleased she'd let him in.

Flak barely had one foot on the road when he spotted two figures outside Begga's house. One was Begga, he could tell from the way moved her fingers over her jeans, the other was a guy he didn't recognise until he heard his voice. "Flak gonna be at yours?" He heard Magz ask. "Nah I want you over" Begga said as she yanked Magz's T-shirt. "Call him Beg, Daddy needs that cashflow yeah?" Flak saw that Begga didn't put up a fight a Magz kissed her on the lips and grabbed her arse like a dirty tart and left her standing there like a dog on her own doorstep. "See you tomorrow?" Begga asked. "With Flak" Magz reminded her. "You gotta work him OK?" Magz shouted down the street. "OK" Begga said as Flak was listening crouched behind a car.

Begga was using him. Magz made sure they were using him. They had to pay.


End file.
